


Say When

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aromantic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:36:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something familiar about him, the coiled danger calling to her like a beacon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say When

Darcy stared hard at the shot glass before picking it up and draining it in one go. She made blech-face after, though, she was never very good at shots. But tonight... Tonight seemed like a shots night.

She took another look at the man over in the corner. He reminded her so much of Brock it was kinda scary. Thick, dark hair, a 5 o'clock shadow across his chin. More than that, though, he held the same coiled readiness, the same air of repressed danger. It called to her like a beacon.

He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. He held her gaze as he lifted his own glass to his lips. A tumbler, not a shot glass like her own. Something clear. Vodka maybe?

She slid down from her seat, making her way through the bar to his table. Her feet stuck a little to the floor, it was that kind of place. The kind of place you went when you wanted to be alone, be anonymous.

His head fell back to look up at her as she neared. He didn't say anything, just stared up at her.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment before gesturing to the chair across from him. “Hey. Can I sit down?”

He seemed to chew on that for an awfully long time, then shook his head. “No.” Flat, cold. That was it.

Darcy sighed, turning and heading back to the bar. Rejection kinda sucked normally, but tonight... Tonight it was the absolute worst. It was probably time to go home. She got another shot from the bartender, paid for it and left a hefty tip, then gathered her coat from the bar stool and headed out into the night.

She wasn't entirely sure what time it was. Late, of course. The night was lit up by the city lights. A chill settled over her, and she wrapped her coat a little more firmly around herself. She could call a cab. Fuck, she could probably call for a car, but she just didn't _want_ to.

The door behind her opened and closed, and she turned to see the man from the corner of the bar stepping down onto the sidewalk. He was looking right her, moving steadily towards her. “It's not safe out here at night.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I'll be fine.” She turned away, heading down the sidewalk. She had no idea what direction home was. Her phone would tell her if she wanted, but...

He fell in step next to her. His hands were deep in his pockets and he wasn't looking at her, but he was apparently walking with her?

Darcy was no stranger to personal danger. Two Earth invasions, a handful of incidents with unfriendly human-types... But she wasn't getting any of that from him. Sure he was obviously some kind of highly-trained badass- she was pretty familiar with that, too. But he wasn't threatening to _her_.

They walked along the sidewalk in silence for a while, meandering really more than anything. “You know about Hydra, right?”

A grunt from her companion. Could have meant yes, could have meant no. Didn't really matter. The booze was making her a little bit talky, and she had a lot on her mind.

“Turns out someone I was pretty close to turned out to be Hydra. And I thought he was dead and everything, but nope. Turned up in Africa to kill some friends of mine. He, uh... He talked about me.” The shit Brock had said about what he wanted to do to her... He'd been goading Steve. Maybe he'd known that as their manager/liaison/whatever, she'd be listening in. Maybe he didn't. She honestly didn't know which would be better.

“We worked together, you know? But it was more than that. He was my _partner_.” There was no way to express it that would make sense, but a look over showed that her companion was nodding like he knew exactly what she was talking about. “Now everyone's all, 'Are you okay?' Obviously I'm not fucking okay.” But she didn't know how to feel. Which was why she was out here, trying to lose herself for just a little bit. If she lost herself, she wouldn't have to feel.

They walked for a little longer in silence. Darcy was glad she'd worn sneakers instead of heels, so she wouldn't have to worry about going home because her feet hurt too much.

“Who is she?”

“What?” He looked over at her sharply, seemingly taken aback by her question.

“Who is she?” Darcy repeated, skirting around a dark bag of garbage that seemed to take up half the sidewalk, stumbling just a little. Her shoulder knocked against his upper arm, but it didn't seem to phase him. “I mean, you were moping in the bar. You're too steady on your feet to have been drinking much, and after you told me I couldn't sit with you, you came out to make sure I'm okay. There's a woman somewhere you feel guilty about.”

“Yeah.” He stopped in front of a door and pulled it open. When she looked a question up at him, he gestured inside. “You should get some coffee in you.”

She turned, noticing that they were in fact in front of a tiny diner somewhere. The waitress behind the counter was watching them tiredly, like she didn't give a fuck if they came in or not. “I guess. I'd rather be drunk.”

“But you're not.” He continued to hold the door for her until she moved around him and onto the tile floor of the diner.

He wasn't wrong. She wasn't sober, but she wasn't _drunk_. She had their pick of tables, and she went and sat down at one by the window.

He sat across from her. He wasn't getting coffee, waving off the waitress when she offered him a cup. He sat there while Darcy got her own cup, though, watching as she added cream and sugar.

Now that they were somewhere that was actually lit properly, he looked a little bit familiar. She'd seen him before, but she couldn't place him. Her eyes narrowed a little as she stared across the table, but that didn't help.

“He dead?”

The question pulled Darcy's attention from her white mug across the table. “Who?”

“Your partner. The Hydra agent.”

She made a face. “Nope.” She drew out the word, popping the P extra hard. Which was one of the things she was having a hard time with. He was still out there, and still very obviously thinking about her. “Brock Rumlow is still very much alive.”

His eyes narrowed slightly and he nodded, like maybe the name meant something.

She finished her coffee, and he ended up walking her all the way to the tower before melting away into the night. She realized she still hadn't gotten his name.

* * *

 

Darcy picked up her to-go cup of coffee from the counter and thanked the barista with a smile before turning to head out the door. There was a man standing there, suddenly, no warning, and she jumped a little. Some of the coffee splashed out of the small hole in the lid of her coffee, scalding her hand. “Shit!”

“Sorry.” The man reached around her and grabbed a wad of napkins, pressing them against her hand.

She knew him. There was a distant memory of him and a dark bar, a burnt cup of coffee in a late night diner. She _knew_ him, though, recognized him. She'd seen him over and over on TV. Frank Castle was currently a fugitive from the law. There was still a manhunt going on for him, although no one else in the coffee shop seemed to realize who he was.

Darcy took the napkins from him, dabbing at her hand. Without a word, she moved past him outside onto the sidewalk, and was completely unsurprised when he followed her. It was a little more anonymous out here. “What are you doing here?” she asked as they walked along the sidewalk.

“Just thought you should know he's dead.” Frank's hands were deep in his pockets as he walked along beside her, and from what she knew about him, Darcy was fairly certain he was probably keeping them on a weapon or two.

She stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to face him. Pedestrians moved around them, and she ignored the dirty looks they were getting. There was really only one person he could have meant. “I... Oh. Um. Hang on.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and made a quick call to her office to let them know she'd be taking an extra long lunch.

She'd just hung up the phone and was putting it back in her pocket when someone bumped into her from behind. She jolted towards Frank.

He caught her easily, his hands closing over her upper arms as he glared after whoever had hit her. He looked like he might actually go after them, but when his eyes came back to her face, he wasn't going anywhere.

“Was it you?” Her voice cracked a little.

“Yeah.” No remorse, no flicker of emotion at all. He glanced in both directions before his gaze settled on her again. “Come with me.”

* * *

 

Two long fingers pushed up into her cunt, and Darcy rolled her hips into them, gripping at the pillow she was laying on. His tongue was flicking against her clit again and again with single-minded determination, like this moment right now was the only thing that mattered. “Fuck,” she moaned out as he did just that, crooking his fingers up as he drove them in and out of her. “Frank!”

He'd taken her back to a shitty apartment far from home. He'd held her as silent tears spilled down her cheeks, and somehow they'd ended up kissing. Frantic, all teeth and tongue like Darcy wasn't the only one who was trying to lose herself.

And now his arm was heavy across her abdomen, pinning her in place as he relentlessly drove her higher and higher.

“Oh, fuck. I'm gonna-” Everything fell still, one perfect moment as she teetered on the edge of ecstasy. The world crashed down around her, heat flooding through her as she came, clenching around his fingers.

He settled himself between her legs, guiding his cock to fill the empty ache in her pussy. Her nails scratched at his shoulders as he fucked her like he was trying to desperately trying to escape from something, deep hard strokes that pushed her up the bed until the pillow was wedged between her head and the wall.

She wrapped her legs around his lean hips, pulling him into her, lifting up to meet every sharp thrust. Time blurred on into nothing, marked only by the sound of skin on skin, of harsh breathing, breathless murmurs.

At last he stiffened over her, his head dropping to rest against her shoulder as his cock pulsed deep inside her. Sweat clung to both them, his forehead hot against her skin. “Karen,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Her name is Karen.”

She knew a Karen. Darcy held Frank as he collapsed against her, half on top of her, smoothing the thick, dark hair back from his forehead.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't come out like I thought it would. This COULD be in the same 'verse as Fire, but it doesn't have to be.


End file.
